Page 95 of King of Hollywood

Felix’s eyes were dark with heat as he spread his legs wider, my cock pushing against his ass as he undulated his hips. I wanted his pants off. Right the fuck now.

Whining, I bucked up against him, my brow scrunched.

“I know,” Felix murmured, reaching down to cup my face as I panted up at him, chest heaving. “I know you want it, darling.” He arched his back, grinding into me. Unable to help myself, I planted my feet into the mattress, bucking up into him—shoes be damned. Like I could fuck him through four layers of clothing just because I wanted it bad enough.

Illogical.

I was acting illogical.

But my head—and my dick—didn’t care.

Felix is in my lap. Felix is in my lap. Felix is in my lap.

I’m going to fuck him.

I’m going to fuck him—

Oh fuck, I needed to stop thinking about that or I was going to come before I got inside him.

“You’re so needy,” Felix purred, and I sobbed, hips fucking against him again. The friction was good but not enough—not enough—not enough. “One second, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” Felix’s words were a balm on my soul, and I nodded jerkily, watching him desperately as he shifted away from my lap so that he could jerk his pants and underwear off in one swift motion.

His hard dick slapped against his belly and I—

Oh fuck.

Oh fuck.

Pop music, Nascar, pickles, pastels—I thought of all the things I hated so that I wouldn’t come prematurely. Especially when I couldn’t tear my eyes away from his cock. His lovely…long, pink cock. It flexed toward me, the tip glistening with precum, the vein on the underside twitching as Felix moved.

“Lift your hips for me, darling,” Felix was moving, and his hands were at my waistband—but my eyes were…yes. God. I wanted to lick his cock. Wanted to taste the salt and sweat and suck him down till I could taste him behind my eyeballs. It bobbed between his legs, the sweet pink crown winking at me as he moved.

“There you go.” I lifted for him, and Felix jerked my pants and underwear down and off, discarding my shoes as well. He even pulled my socks off. Which felt odd, as I’d never been sockless around anyone since I’d moved away from the farm as a kid. The city had felt too dirty…our new apartment after Mom died—too cluttered.

The world was chaotic.

It always had been.

But…I didn’t mind. At least, not right now. Not when I was with Felix.

My dick was leaking, a steady stream slicking my belly as my hips flexed toward him, and Felix growled, low and rough. “Fuck.”

And then he fell to his knees, pushing his face into my groin and I was—oh god. Fuck. Yes. Felix's tongue lapped at the salty skin of my sac, pushing against the velvety softness as he sucked and slurped—a man possessed.

I parted my legs, rutting against him, my cock head leaving a streak of precum along his cheekbone.

“Fuck,” I gasped out, toes curling into the dusty comforter.

“That’s it—” Felix groaned, flattening his tongue and rubbing a long, slick stripe up the center of my balls, then my length, till he could dig it into the weeping slit at the top of my crown. “You’re such a good boy, Marshall.”

I whined again, leaking onto the wet of his tongue, my eyes nearly crossing so I could get a better look at him.

“Let’s get you nice and hard.”

I huffed at him angrily. I’d been hard since I walked across the street—I didn’t need to be any harder.

“Then…I’ll let you fuck me. Okay, darling? I promise I’ll give you what you need. Just let me…get ready—” Felix was doing something with his hand—the one that wasn’t lying on my thigh, playing with the hair there—and I was too dazed by the wet mouth flicking at my cock and the vibration of his voice, to realize what exactly it was.

Not until I recognized the open lube packet he’d stolen from my pants sitting on the bed.